Just A Dream, If Nothing Else
by Reiko Katsura
Summary: It's a dream come true when Draco confesses his feelings to Harry. It's just a dream, in fact, if nothing else. HP/DM Slash. One-shot.


**Just a Dream, If Nothing Else**

**By **Reiko Katsura

**Pairing**: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy

**Summary**: Dreamalis. Because I love you. Together, Forever. Please, I don't want to wake up. It's just a Dream, If Nothing else. HP/DM Slash.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter. NCII.

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**A/N: I wrote this about a week ago, but only just decided to finish it up and upload it. It could be better, probably, but nevertheless, I love it. I would suggest reading all of the information in _italics_, because it helps you to not only understand the story, but it brings about more emotion than there would be without reading it. You might also want to read this while you listen to "Was It A Dream", by 30 Seconds To Mars. **

**Please Enjoy this!  
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_"The Ends Justify The Means"_

Draco and I have been together for almost five years now. I don't think I've ever been happier. Our lives together didn't start out easy. No, it was far from it, in fact. Took a lot from my part, of course, because that's the way we are. Draco is proud, and would react based on pride if the cause may prove to demean him, in any way, shape or form. Pride, to me, however, is absolute nothing when set up against what I really want. Begging. Groveling. Crying. Manipulating. Using. Imploring. Blackmailing. Forging. Lying. Betraying. Hurting. Falling. These are all just means to meet a desired end. I've had a rough life–– always the sacrifice. I'm the boy who lived, after all. And who cared if the boy who lived died in the end, so long as he did the things he was born to do before he died. Who cares if I've had to loose everything of importance to me, because those things are the sacrifices needed to be made to please everyone else?

So could I be blamed for using everyone else's thought process, and taking it as my own? Could I be blamed for being selfish, when I have lost everything for being selfless? Perhaps to some people. To the hypocrites, anyway.

* * *

"_Over a two hundred years ago lived a witch that went by the name Mira Whitlock. She was a dark witch. Dark, but kind. Whitlock held an obsession, her friends and family confessed, with the memory. With dreams. With the world outside reality. Her spouse, Craig Whitlock, admits that his wife often lived in a world of her own. She was dedicated to studying the anatomy of the brain, the theories behind sleep, and spent many of her years locked away in her lab. For many years, no one had ever known what she was up to………….." _

* * *

When the war ended, I didn't know _what_ to do with myself. Everyone I had cared about died. Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Fred and George, Bill, Dumbledore, Snape, Remus, Tonks, Kingsley, Hedwig, Sirius, McGonagall, Madame Pomfrey, Madame Rosmerta, Luna, Dean and Seamus; _Everyone. _I defeated Voldemort, yes, but at the highest price I consider possible. How fair was that, I couldn't help but think. Why did _I _have to loose everyone important, yet everyone else was allowed to celebrate because who and what _they_ loved was safe.

I hated it. Resented it. Loathed it.

More than once, I had even thought about leaving the Wizarding World and living life as a Muggle. That idea died quickly enough, however.

And before I knew it, time was passing. Time was passing, and I needed to move with it, too, so I got a job in the Ministry I hated so much, and got a job in the Department of Dark Artifacts Classification, Registration and Magical Runes. I hated the Ministry, but I loved the job. It was exhilarating; searching the world for dark, magical artifacts, cracking runes to secret places, finding out each items different power, and categorizing it between distinctive groups. Time continued to pass, and I began to enjoy life more and more with it.

Three years into the job, and I got a knew partner from the Department of Dark Magical Creature Identification. Who would have expected it to be the very same person who had made my life a living hell back in Hogwarts?

Draco Malfoy.

How I had forgotten about him was beyond me. I knew that he and his parents had a trial before the Wizenmagot after the war, and that he had been proven innocent since he bore no mark and held no allegiance to Voldemort, and that both of his parents had been under _Imperio_ for the majority of their crimes, and were threatened with death of themselves or of their family, of the other crimes. Everything after that was a complete blur, however. In short, I forgot he existed.

And perhaps that's why I was so immediate to see the changes within the man. For starters, he was much quieter than he had been in Hogwarts. He was still a rude git, in my opinion, but he was nicer. Never insulted me, if you disregarded the casual sneers, snarls, scowls and sarcasm. He still called me "Potter", and so I called him "Malfoy" in turn. We weren't friends, or acquaintances, even, but we worked well enough together. Malfoy was brilliant when it came to deciphering runes, and he was almost as good as I was at finding the properties in Dark Items. We were an abominable pair when it came to work, and If I was honest enough, I would have admitted to actually enjoying the mans company.

But at the time, I wasn't.

* * *

"_I had forgotten I was married at times, really. Mira would just sometimes go off into her own world. She would speak of things I didn't know of. She would say things that made so sense. Her eyes__––__ beautiful orbs of chocolate brown__––__ were always dreamy and glazed. The people she mentioned, I didn't know. The things she commented on, I didn't understand. She locked herself up in her lab so often, I sometimes forgot she even existed… and then when she finally came out, I didn't even know her anymore. _

"_Honestly, I don't think she even knew herself."_

_--Craig Whitlock, 1745. Husband. _

* * *

Malfoy and I worked together for two years before the dreams started coming.

At first, I didn't know what they were about. I only knew that each night, I would have dreams of holding and caressing and loving a man. The shock of having such dreams about a man died soon enough, but the shock of who the star of my dreams was-- didn't. After nearly three months of having those dreams, I finally realized that they were about Draco Malfoy.

I denied it at first, of course. But even idiots had to get it sometimes. The man in my dreams always had long, silver-blonde hair that fell to his shoulders. He had dark, gray eyes that held so much emotion, and laid oddly on a beautiful, stoic face. He was tall and built, with curves in just the right places, and a husky voice that was just enough to make me melt. It didn't take me long to start falling for Draco Malfoy. It soon came to the point that I would catch myself staring at his body, or getting hard at his voice, or shivering when his fingers brushed mine when he examined an artifact.

And like the Gryffindor I was, I decided to be brave about it and tell him how I feel, after three more months of having fallen.

Bloody good that did me.

* * *

"_Mira always had quite the imagination. Ever since she was a little girl, she always talked about playing with fairies, flying with stars and floating on clouds. She was an imaginative child, she was. We always thought that she would grow out of that stage. We thought that when she got older, she would learn the difference between a dream and reality. It's a scary thing; watching your youngest daughter pull further and further into herself. Slowly, but surely, she began to drift away. Oh, how very wrong we had been."_

_-- Silia Augustine, 1745. Mother. _

* * *

I asked Draco out seventeen times after I confessed to him, and he turned me down at least thirty. How is that even possible, you might wonder. Well, it is. Draco would say "No, Potter", before I would even open my mouth to ask him out. I think he had some kind of "Potter Radar" or something, because he always knew when I would try.

Slowly, but surely, I was getting heart broken.

And Slowly, but surely, I was falling more and more in love with him.

I remember the first time I asked him out. It was the night that we discovered a box load of Dark, deadly artifacts from a river in France. It took everything I had to come out and say it. It took nothing he had to reject me.

"Draco," I had caught him right when he was leaving the ministry, and grabbed his arm before he left the building.

Draco had risen a brow, obviously surprised that I had used his first name, and asked, "Yes, Potter?" I took note that he didn't use my first name.

And like the little Gryffindor I was, I blurted out exactly what I had been thinking at that moment; "Will you go out with me, Draco?"

To say that Draco was stunned would have been an understatement. That was probably the most expression I had seen on him, despite smugness, irritation, anger or pride.

The expression melted quickly enough, however, and was soon replaced by his usual indifferent mask.

"Why?" he all but drawled, his brow still raised.

Honestly, I answered, "Because I fancy you."

And his answer had been, "Then no".

When I asked Draco why, he merely said that he wouldn't date me if I were the last man on earth. Because I was, in fact, a man. And because I was Potter. And because he could do no more than tolerate me. And because he wouldn't go against his family for me. And because he wouldn't loose his image, as impaired as it had been, for me.

And just because it was me.

And his answer has been very similar to that one every time I asked him since then.

So since it was because of me, I tried to change myself little by little. Just the small things, you know. Combing my hair every morning, wearing contacts, keeping neat and proper, seeming more mature–– I tried, but nothing seemed to woo him.

I began to fall deeper and deeper into him as time went on. Deeper into him, and deeper into the person I thought he would like.

* * *

"_Some days, Mira would hold out her arms and start running, looking as if she was about to sprout wings and fly. Sometimes, she would lay in the water and float, seeming to drift away. Sometimes she would just sit, with her eyes closed and a smile on her face, as if she was seeing things that we could not see. _

"_Sometimes she looked at me, and I could have sworn that she didn't know who I was. She would cock her head and stare, turn around and nod, as if she was listening to someone or something, and then turn back to me and smile-- like nothing odd had even happened. Like she had remembered me, after all. _

"_Maybe she had really flown away. Maybe she had drifted off. Maybe she _was_ in a place that we could not see. I believe that now."_

_-- Mary Augustine, 1745. Younger sister. _

* * *

Three years since our partnership, Draco and I were sent to Egypt to search the pyramids for Dark Artifacts. It was the first time we had ever taken a muggle airplane, for both of us. Draco was absolutely frightened. It was one of the most enjoyable trips I'd ever taken.

We stayed in Egypt for a month, searching the pyramids and undergrounds. It was no wonder that most muggles who searched them died in the process. The pyramids were full of magical barriers, traps, and even animals and bugs. It took a month to get through all of the wards and traps, and another month to actually find the tombs. Egyptian Wizards were clever spell casters.

It was in Pharaoh Tumendetra's tomb where I found an item that caught my extreme attention. A large, golden sphere with a blue diamond engraved in the center. There were markings and jewels embedded within the gold, and an obvious dark energy, but that wasn't what caught my interest. It was blue, hazy jewel that drew me in. Without even thinking, I used some of the most powerful concealment charms to hide its magical energy, and transfigured it into a watch.

The next day we left for England with a box of dark items, and one unknown one that I hid in my bag.

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"_It was her longest confinement, yet. She had been in that lab of hers for nearly three months. I wasn't allowed in there, she told me since she first set it up. I respected her privacy, no matter how much I didn't want to at that time. Thinking about it now, I probably shouldn't have. _

"_The house elves were the only ones allowed in there, to bring her food and certain supplies. They were forbidden to say anything to me, no matter how much I commanded them. _

"_Exactly three months since she locked herself in there, Mira finally came out. She was a mess. Her hair, golden and long, was tangled and all over the place. Specs of things I didn't know where splattered all over her white robes and skin. Her face looked daunt and tired, as if she hadn't slept for ages. She was skinnier. She was paler. She looked sick. All of that she was, and yet, her eyes still remained as dreamy, as distant as ever. I was at loose ends by that point. I wanted to yell at her, demand what she was doing. I wanted to ask her why she was locking herself in her lab, refusing to come out. If I had known that she was going to be like that, I never would have married her, no matter how much I loved her. My heart couldn't take it. I was drowning in worries. _

"_And then she said; 'I'm going to Egypt.'"_

_--Craig Whitlock, 1745. Husband. _

* * *

Four months after our trip to Egypt, Draco did the absolute unknown.

He confessed to me.

He admitted that he had always loved me, but had to hide it because he had too much pride. He _begged_ me to forgive him, and told me countless times that nothing was more important than me.

I don't think I'd ever been happier. I couldn't help the tears in my eyes, even if I wanted to.

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"_Caig had called us, begging that we have talk with our daughter. He looked absolutely miserable. He was pale, and had restless bags under his eyes. When we asked him what was wrong, all he said was that Mira was going away, and he felt like he would never see her again. _

"_We flooed right over then, in the midst of her packing her bags. We demanded to know where she was going, and all she replied was "Egypt." We asked her what for, she said nothing. Where__––__ nothing. With who__––__ nothing. Anything__––__ nothing. But she was going, she said, no matter what. And then little Mary came and asked why. Why was she going. Why was she leaving us. And her simple reply was "Dreamalis." We didn't know what she meant._

"_And when I looked in her eyes, those brown, dreamy jewels, I knew exactly what Caig had meant. She walked out of the door, and at that moment, I knew that I would never see my little girl again. _

"_Our family cried like we had never cried before."_

_--Charles Augustine, 1745. Father. _

* * *

We married.

Draco brought me to his home a month after we consummated our relationship, and took me to meet his parents. Five hours after that, Draco was completely removed from his family line.

And he told me that he didn't care!

_I _was more important than his parents.

And so he and I married, and he took my name, and became Draco Potter.

Before that day, I never knew how much that fit.

* * *

"_I knew that she wasn't coming back. I knew that she had left me, and for good. And how I cried. I lived the following month like a shell. I couldn't believe that my wife, the love of my life, was really gone. There wasn't a doubt in my mind that she wasn't coming back. _

"_And then I became angry. Angry at her for changing, for leaving, for hurting me. Angry at her parents for introducing me to her. Angry at myself for loving her, for not being able to stop her. And so, to quell my anger, I did the one thing that I had promised never to do: I went into her lab._

"_What I saw there… made me cry and scream in horror."_

_--Craig Whitlock, 1745. Husband. _

* * *

Together, we've been, for five years.

We have a daughter and a son that we adopted from a Wizarding Orphanage.

Our kids our beautiful. The oldest, Scorpius Malfus Potter, is now thirteen years old. It's a surprise that he isn't actually related to the Malfoys at all. He has the same silver blonde hair, and the same gray eyes. He's intelligent and clever. Draco is _so_ sure that he will be in Slytherin when he gets his Hogwarts letter. I deny him all the time, though I can't help but silently agree.

The youngest is Lilac Aldus Potter, and she's seven. She has dark, mahogany curls, and large almond eyes. She's tall for a seven year old, and very witty. It hurts to admit sometimes, but she reminds me of Hermione at times. Well, I knew that Hermione would have loved her if she were alive.

They would have loved both of them.

They would have loved us.

They would still love me.

"Harry," Draco's voice called from the library. I apparated to his side, and leaned in as he grabbed my arms and pulled me into a kiss.

"Yes, love?" I asked, smiling into his lips.

"Where are you going?"

"Gringotts," I easily replied.

Draco rose a brow, "What for?"

I returned the gesture, "For Scorpius. He's having his first trip to Hogsmeade next week. He's going to need some more money. Merlin knows how I needed more money the first time I went, and I _had_ a pouch full of Galleons."

Draco chuckled, and nodded his consent, "All right, Harry. Come back soon, alright?"

I looked at him inquiringly, and he elaborated, "It isn't often that we get the house all to ourselves."

Draco smirked wickedly at me, and I softly squeezed his nose with my thumb and forefinger.

"Perv," I breathed, drawing him in for another kiss, "I'll be back soon."

"You'd better." He drawled, though his eyes were dancing.

After a final kiss, I apparated out of the house and right before Gringotts Bank. Once inside, I was greeted by a Goblin named Griblank, and asked, "Name, Vault and key."

"Harry Potter, Potter Vault, and Secret Lineage Potter Vault. Here." I handed over the two silver keys, and followed the tiny Goblin past the doors and into the tunnels. The trip to the vault was an all too familiar one.

I first went into the one that Draco and I shared, took out 20 galleons, 50 sickles, and 25 knuts, from our supremely large pile of Wizarding money, and then followed the Goblin to another Vault, one that only Potters by blood can open.

I stepped inside, and hurried over to the table where a single large box lay. As a safety precaution, I turned back to make sure that no one was watching me, and pushed the box open.

I sighed a breath of relief as I pulled out an all too familiar golden sphere, with a hazy blue diamond engraved in it, and multi-colored jewels imbedded.

I stared at the jewel for some time, sighed again, and then put in back in the box. When I left the vault, and it closed behind me, the goblin merely looked at me, like so many others before him had when I make a trip to this vault every couple of months, as if to ask, "Why did you go in there for, if you did not, nor have ever, taken anything from there?"

I shrugged at the Goblin, and followed him back onto the cart, and out of the bank. Feeling refreshed, I stuffed the bag of money into my pockets, and apparated back home, very eager to spend some alone time with my husband.

I don't think I've ever been happier.

Each day is like living a dream, because really, when has reality ever been good?

It's just a dream, if nothing else.

Nothing has changed in the past five years that Draco and I had married, except for two small things.

Harry's eyes had changed to the most stunning, cloudy shade of blue. How this happened, he wasn't sure. Healers had told him that many people's eyes change color at some point in their lives, though usually at a much younger age. Draco liked his eye color, so they left it alone.

The other––The golden sphere, with a hazy blue diamond engraved in it, and multi-colored jewels imbedded, the one that I kept in a secret vault, and that no one else knows of, now has a name.

Dreamalis.

* * *

"_Mira Whitlock, at age 32, was found dead in one of the many pyramids of Egypt. Wizard researchers found her body, preserved by unknown and unclassified chemicals, and reported it to the ancient Aurors. No one knew the reason of her cause of death, but many assume that it was the cause of the olden traps and wards that past Egyptians placed in the pyramids to protect it's tombs and treasures. What Mira had been doing in the pyramids remain unknown. When they found her, she had nothing on her that would leave us to believe she was set out to steal some of the many artifacts in the tombs. Her reasoning for being there also remain unknown. Craig Whitlock, Mira's husband of eleven years, refuses to share his knowledge on the findings in Mira's lab room. The Whitlock Manor had burned down, and he moved houses to a more muggle-occupied area in England. _

"_Her family came to identify the body three days after it had been discovered, and though the appearance of the dead woman determined that she was, indeed, Mira Whitlock, there was one facial factor that seemed to perplex her living relatives, who hadn't seen in her in nearly three years. _

"_Her eyes had become the most stunning, cloudy shade of blue."_

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**FIN.................................................**

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**Was It A Dream- 30 Seconds To Mars**

Your defenses were on high  
Your walls built deep inside  
Yeah I'm a selfish bastard  
But at least I'm not alone  
My intentions never change  
What I want still stays the same  
And I know what I should do  
it's time to set myself on fire  
Was it a dream?  
Was it a dream?  
Is this the only evidence that proves it  
A photograph of you and I  
Your reflection I've erased  
Like a thousand burned out yesterdays  
Believe me when I say goodbye forever  
Is for good  
Was it a dream?  
Was it a dream?  
Is this the only evidence that proves  
A photograph of you and I  
Was it a dream?  
Was it a dream?  
Is this the only evidence that proves  
A photograph of you and I  
(A photograph of you and I)  
Was it a dream?  
Was it a dream?  
Is this the only evidence that proves  
A photograph of you and I  
A photograph of you and I  
A photograph of you and I  
IN LOVE...  
IN LOVE...


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